


Betting on Hearts

by orphan_account



Category: DAYS (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 21:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kazama hasn’t been with many girls lately, Tsukamoto can’t help but notice. When he asks him, Kazama says he’s using the ‘subtle approach’. So ensues a bet- can Kazama actually get the girl with this approach? Is a girl even what Kazama wants?





	Betting on Hearts

Kazama wasn’t quite sure when it started- his not quite platonic feelings towards his teammate.

He hadn’t changed too much since he came to the team, he was still the same slight boy with skinny limbs and awkwardly big feet. He’d trip over them more than enough, and Kazama had always found it endearing and just a bit cute.

He had little to no confidence and a tendency to blush whenever anyone said anything remotely kind to him, and that was definitely cute. He was a massive crybaby too, and if it was anyone else, it would have annoyed Kazama.

But Tsukushi wasn’t just that little boy anymore, he was brave, reckless, and too self-sacrificing for his own good. He had a heart of gold, kind to his peers and enemies alike.

That brought them to the problem they had now, the raven haired boy was having a little too much fun talking to an opposing team player, in the pick up football game they were playing.

“Tsukushi,” Kazama called over, “stop fraternising with the enemy and get over here!”

Kazama smiled a bit, just to make sure he didn’t think he was actually upset, but Tsukushi’s face flushed red anyways: “I-I wasn’t fraternising!” He protested.

“Oh yeah?” Kazama hummed curiously.

“Yeah! I was just telling them that we were on the Seiseki football team,” Tsukushi explained. Kazama grinned, “they didn’t seem surprised.”

“They wouldn’t be, would they?” Kazama asked rhetorically, “I’m just too good.” His grin stretched even wider when Tsukushi’s mouth opened to reply, and then closed again.

“You are,” he admitted finally, with a beam in Kazama’s direction, and he preened. Anyone would admit that being praised by your- crush- would make you feel good, Kazama pulled his hands through his hair unconsciously with a grin.

“And we’re going to win,” Kazama laughed, looking back at their makeshift ‘team’. It was them and three other men, one with big spikey hair, one with a big nose, and one who was just... Big.

“I don’t feel like this is fair,” Tsukushi admitted with a small smile, and Kazama knocked his head with his knuckles.

“Who cares? It’s fun,” Kazama retorted, and for a second he felt like he could have been knocked back on his ass by the laugh Tsukushi had produced. It was just so sweet and honest, and he seemed so genuinely happy to be there.

“It is fun,” Tsukushi laughed, and quickly, he ran over to their ‘team’. Kazama joined at a slower pace, in wonder of the smaller boy.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he would ever allow himself to admit his- feelings- but not for the first time, he told himself he didn’t want to ruin anything, their friendship was too precious.

So as he drew closer, he wiped his mouth with his shirt, and shut his eyes tight. He would not think romantically about Tsukushi, look romantically at Tsukushi, and definitely not act romantically to Tsukushi. No hand holding, no carrying bridal style, no spur of the moment victory embraces, nothing that could be interpreted as not platonic.

That could work, right?

Of course it wouldn’t work.

It had started off fine, he had slapped Tsukushi’s back (non-aggressively) at the beginning of the game, and exchanged absolutely no romantic prolonged eye contact.

During the match whenever he’d score a goal, Kazama would high five everyone on the team, not just Tsukushi. Whenever they’d let a goal in, Tsukushi would cheer and keep everyone’s spirits up, and Kazama would pointedly not make eye contact.

Not even when Tsukushi shot him a brilliant grin, which he definitely wasn’t looking at. Okay, maybe he was looking, and smiled back. But nothing other than that, and he definitely didn’t notice that he was the first person Tsukushi looked at, seeking approval from.

He was wondering to himself how someone so wide (no offence intended, really), could miss a shot which was so close to the middle. It had gone right past his outstretched arm, like moving a step or two to the right would have killed him.

He was still wondering, or more ranting in his mind, when he was pulled from his thoughts by a cry nearby. He could hear it was Tsukushi, and before he was thinking, he had turned towards the boy who was collapsed on the floor, and moved forwards until he was kneeling before him.

“You alright?” Kazama tried to ask casually, but it came out a lot more stressed, and needy. Kazama despised needy.

“Yeah, just tripped over my ankle,” Tsukushi grinned at him playfully, like it happened every day. It probably did happen every day, knowing Tsukushi, and Kazama comforted himself with those words. Everyone around them let out a sigh of relief, that he wasn’t seriously injured.

“How do you trip over your ankle?” Kazama asked, not really expecting an answer. He stood up, and offered him a hand up. Tsukushi took it, and Kazama nearly jumped back when he realised they were holding hands. That was not on the list of completely platonic things they could do.

To be fair, it would have been rude to let him sit there, and get up without a helping hand. That’s what Kazama told himself, at least. His skin was baby soft, despite all the football he played, he couldn’t help but notice.

“Well, I was just running when my foot kind of decided to stop,” Tsukushi reflected thoughtfully, “but the rest of my body didn’t, so I think I tried to drag it along.” His face was deadly serious, kind of like when Mizuki would tell Kazama to make the ball go ‘n-yoom’ when they were about to go play a game.

Kazama burst into laughter at his admission, letting his head fall forwards and knees going a bit weak. Everyone else joined in, and Tsukushi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. That boy made him laugh too much, Kazama thought, how would he survive without him?

That was a sobering thought. They’d grow up, and grow apart, and maybe football would become the chore it used to be again.

Kazama shook his head, to clear it, and almost growled to himself. He wouldn’t let himself feel negatively like that- not when Tsukushi was right there beside him, when he was still happy.

Before he knew it, the game was underway, and almost finished, when he noticed Tsukushi was pretty much hopping around the pitch. He ran at a weird gallop, that nearly nobody noticed, except Kazama, because as much as he didn’t like to admit it, he was paying attention.

He let it go, and just let him finish the game. What harm could another five minutes do, after about half an hour?

Apparently, a lot. Their team had won, 4-2, obviously, and as soon as they had all agreed it was done and most of them shuffled away, Tsukushi fell down onto the pitch, into an odd sort of yoga position.

One leg folded and one leg stretched out in front, the leg that was injured. “Kazama,” the wide eyed boy started off pitifully, almost a low whine, “I think I’ve done something.”

Kazama sat down in front of him, “of course you have, you idiot!” He groaned, pulling at his shoe. It had happened so much, it was barely weird. “I saw you limping around the pitch, I knew I should have stopped you.”

He slapped his head, and then experimentally poked at Tsukushi’s ankle. The pink faced boy winced, and Kazama frowned. “It’s probably only a sprain,” Tsukushi admitted.

“You’re most likely right,” Kazama agreed, “but it’s best not to risk it. Rest it, and see how it feels tomorrow.”

“But, I’m cycling home,” Tsukushi remembered with a groan. He didn’t like the thought of pedalling the entire way home with the state his ankle was in.

“Take the train?” Kazama suggested, wondering if it would be too forward to just invite him to stay with him for the night. It would save the hassle.

“Good idea!” Tsukushi smiled as if all his problems were solved, and went to put his stand up. Kazama rose at the same time, and Tsukushi’s hand shot out to stablise himself on the taller boy’s shoulder.

“You’re having trouble walking, aren’t you?” Kazama asked rhetorically, and Tsukushi nodded quickly. Kazama bent down a little, and before he could regret it, he pulled the boy’s arm completely around his shoulder.

“You can walk like this to the station, right?” Kazama asked again, and Tsukushi nodded fervently. They walked through the sports hall like that, and before long Kazama’s hand had wrapped around the boy’s waist.

Just to keep him up, he reminded himself, his arm was slipping down because he was so much shorter. The bright lights of the hall shone out of the building as they walked into the darkness, and Tsukushi looked back for a second.

“My bike’s still here!” He exclaimed, and before he could shoot off, Kazama tightened his grip and shook his head. It was too much effort to bring a bike onto the train, especially with his less than optimal mobility.

“You can pick it up tomorrow,” he said firmly, “or I’ll bring it to mine, and you can pick it up tomorrow morning.” He kept walking forwards, and Tsukushi was forced to keep walking with him.

“You would? Thanks!” He sounded so happy, he groaned inwardly at the thought of walking home with two bikes instead of riding one.

And so they trekked on till the station, which took longer than it usually would, because Kazama was storming ahead without meaning to, and Tsukushi was finding it difficult to keep up.

“Please, can we,” Tsukushi paused nervously, “slow down a little?” His arm was already slipping down Kazama’s back, which made the taller boy feel incredibly uncomfortable.

“But we’re almost there!” Kazama exclaimed, exasperated. He felt a bit on edge about the whole having a crush on his best friend thing, and this whole fiasco was not helping.

“I’m sorry!” Tsukushi said on instinct, and Kazama frowned. It wasn’t Tsukushi’s fault, it was his own for being an ass when his friend was injured. He realised what a crappy he was being, and slowed down a little.

“It’s alright,” he paused, thinking over an idea, “I could just give you a piggyback the rest of the way?” He posed it as a question, but he could tell Tsukushi’s arm was probably aching.

“Are you sure?” Tsukushi asked nervously, face warming up a little bit.

“Sure.” Kazama muttered, stopping and behind down to help him on, arms wrapping around his rakishly thin legs.

Carrying him to the station on his back, he realised he had basically broken another one of his self imposed rules. Goddamnit.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated sporadically, if at all. Sorry, but this is just an idea I had after watching DAYS for the first time. This is basically just an opening chapter! Don’t own anything except my words! Thank you for reading!


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